


Losing Hope Gaining Faith

by stitchez



Series: Mirthful/Mirthless [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-04
Packaged: 2018-04-12 20:59:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4494495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchez/pseuds/stitchez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laughsassin AU: Eridan's freaking out about the future and needs to get his chill on. 2nd person narrative from Eridan's PoV</p>
            </blockquote>





	Losing Hope Gaining Faith

**Author's Note:**

> I think I got all the w's and v's but idk sorry if I missed any let me know i guess. Oh also, using They pronouns for Gam in Laughsassin!AU things.

**> Be Eridan Ampora**

 

 

If you take Fef... If you take her /now/ and you both leave, both run. Maybe the two of you can make it to Bec Noir before he gets to you, pledge yourselves to his cause. The two highest trolls in the spectrum, the next empress and her right hand troll, he'd surely take you on as allies!

 

But what if that doesn't work? What if he tries to kill you right then? Oh you'd save Fef of course, pull out Ahab's Crosshairs and get her to flee, her knight protecting her future, just as you should. Even with the possibility of death it's your best option it seems, instead of waiting here tense and worried and just waiting to fucking die, at least you'd be meeting it head on and on your own terms.

 

You had to talk to her, now. Talk it out and figure the best course of action. Last you saw Fef was in the computer room talking to Sol and maybe, just maybe, she'd agree to come talk with you.

 

Glub if only you two were still on good terms. The game started and she, she just left.

 

You could deal with her not being flushed for you, it made you ache inside but you could handle it. But the fact she couldn't even pity you, found you beyond that or not worth it, it had torn so deep, like a barbed fishhook caught in your gills the pain relentless and stinging. Besides Kar she was the only one you could go to, and he was always your second option or when you needed advice about her. She is- was your moirail.

 

Was...

 

You'd almost forgotten too. Starring down, hands clenched, nails biting into your palms harsh enough to draw blood and fins limp, you looked at the pile at your feet. It was in this nice room out of the way too, so the landdwellers couldn't hear your plans. Wands of all sorts of woods and designs and finishes, carefully constructed into a pile, neat as could be. Your entire collection so beautifully arranged here in this hidden room, one of the few places you found no one else frequented. A nice quiet space for a much needed jam.

 

The problem was she wasn't yours anymore. You didn't have a moirail. You didn't have anyone to help quell the worry, the shame, the damnable high blood rage seething beneath your cold skin. Kar was even too busy to spare you more than a sorry and a ban. You'd royally fucked up. Everyone was at the end of their rope with you, there was literally no one to turn to, no pitying ear or even a friendly one.

 

The wands were closer now and you realize that you'd slumped to your knees, palms trembling on the floor and leaving small smears of purple. You were scared and worried and there was no one to talk to, no one to tell you it would be okay. A choked glub slips past your lips and suddenly you're hunched over, fingers twisted in your hair, rings catching strands as you pull and tug. There's a high pitched, wavering whine in the air and you don't realize its you until you try and pull in a shuddering breath which makes you unclench your teeth, gills heaving. You pull harder ripping out strands of hair and press your forehead against the floor strongly debating pulling back and slamming back down hard when a gentle hand touches your shoulder.

 

“Shhhhhhhh Eridan.”

 

You freeze and slowly turn to the side to see the gangly clown at your side, looking as zen as they always do.

 

“Wwhen the fuck did you get here?!” You hiss quickly untangling the hands from your hair, wincing as you yank them. A glance at your hands reveal at least 2 of your rings are now caught in your hair. Great, another fuck up. You move quickly, brushing imaginary dust from your shoulders and checking your face for tears as Gamzee straightens up.

 

“Well I up and thought I heard something sounding all hurt and followed it here. Looks like I was right.” The hand is back on your shoulder, not quite grabbing but just a gentle touch. “Is everything all motherfucking chill with you, brother?”

 

“It doesn't matter ewerythin fucked anywways I mean wwhat's one more thing added into the mix.” You sniffle a little and cast a look (not a pout you would insist) at the clown. Of course they've got that easy going soft smile going on, like you really could just open the gates and let everything flood out. You kind of want to. You're at the end of your rope and honestly don't know what to do.

 

“Come on up here, a good talking will get you all the good kinds of right in your thinkpan, brother.” They're not being pushy about it, it's a gentle offer and it'd be obvious to a wriggler you really do need a good jam, the toll of this session is weighing too heavily on you not to. You grumble some form of agreement and they let out a long satisfied hum and gently scoot you closer to your pile so you will turn and climb onto it before settling themself down.

 

“Alright brother, let those words flow like the most fresh stream of Faygo pouring from a crisp chilled bottle. Lay it all up on me.” They're lounged back, relaxed but listening. You open your mouth and -

 

Nothing.

 

With a huff you hunch forward again, gills fluttering as you try and speak again but the words just won't come.

 

“I'm here brother.” A gentle hand on your back, not rubbing or papping, just there. They're listening. You can feel their eyes on the side of your face but you hawen't stopped hunching over so they can't quite meet your eyes. You heave a shuttering breath and try again. You need to get this out fast or they're just going to leave like everyone else does.

 

“Kar's too busy being the leader,” it sounds like a statement to be spit out but you just sound as tired as you feel finally. “He wwas the one to giwe me adwice about Fef an stuff wwhen she couldn't talk to me, yaknoww especially after she broke up wwith me.”

 

“I know I got to be strong, but this game is just so fucked! I mean ww'ere all on this stupid meteor you knoww?” Nails have once again found their spots in your palms, pressing in deeper than before. Gamzee knows this though, everyone's probably feeling it and that's not the actual problem. What is your problem? You have so many.

 

“No one ewen likes me, I've pushed eweryone awway so it's not like I hawe friends here,” Your hands are now back in your hair, smearing blood and knotting around the strands once more and yanking so hard it makes you hiss your words. Before you can cause too much damage though Gamzee gently grabs your hands, working them from your hair and gripping them gently. You stumble a bit but try and continue. “W-wwhat... Wwhat the hell am I supposed to d-do for nearly a swweep an a half stuck on this fuckin rock wwith no one? W-wwatch in enwy as Fef an Sol flush at each other wwatch as Wris ig-gnores me wwatch as eweryone else has someone to hang out wwith wwhile I'm le-left here because I'm a fuck up?!”

 

Their hands shift and your blood pusher jumps into your throat, thinking they're going to leave and the tears well up again - 'Oh god, oh God, oh God'- but they're just adjusting their hands, turning yours to stroke over your knuckles in a comforting fashion, a soft hum of a shush coming from them. The action is so damned tender, so pale it breaks you a bit inside. Fef never did anything like this for you and Gamzee isn't even your moirail!

 

“I m-mean if wwe go to him, I wwana take Fef I wwana talk to her an make her go wwith me but I, I knoww she wwon't leave S-sol an I don't wwant to bring him along I got to get us to him an maybe if wwe join him then he'll spare us an then Fef can liwe an that's all I wwant I wwant her happy an aliwe but she won't ewen look at me half the time so howw do I conwince her to leawe the meteor wwith me to go to Bec Noir an liwe because there's no fuckin wway in hell this wwill turn out good.” You're crumbling fast, voice raising and hands trembling. If you'd don't hurry up he's just going to leave anyways, probably tell everyone how pathetic you look crying.

 

“Because really howw are wwe going to beat him. That's the... the point right? How wwe wwin? But wwe're all ju-just fuckin wwrigglers howw are wwe supposed to fight him? Howw are wwe all supposed to come out of this aliwe?! Wwhat kind of hope are wwe even su-supposed to have hurtling towwards our deaths? Wwe're literally all g-goin to die an I don't wwant to! I'm supposed to be hope an all I'we done is push people awway. I can only sawe her an me if wwe leave noww! I messed up though I messed up so fuckin bad an I don’t deserwe her but I still wwant her to liwe.”

 

Your throat hurts like you swallowed up sand and it's caught in your gills and your face is wet with tears, still trembling all over like a squeak beast cornered by a giant meow beast. Your blood pusher though it doesn't quite feel as heavy and crushed.

 

“Gam, wwhat the fuck am I supposed to ewen do?”

 

 

 

**> Be Gamzee Makara**


End file.
